The Prophesy
by angelinconflict
Summary: Part 6 in the Well Runneth Eternal series finds Dean, Sam and Bobby heading to Idaho to investigate something that is stealing the memories of hunters. This is no ordinary hunt however, and the answers will lead to one startling conclusion.


Dean awoke, head as thick and as heavy as a battle axe. He groaned unable to open his eyes, remembering fragments of a night so wrought with drink that the taste of purple nurple remained in his mouth even now.

Sam's voice awoke him enough to bolt up, as the young hunter howled, "Holy crap!"

Dean's first thought was that he was not alone; his second thought was that he had done something he could never ever take back. With a desperate glance beside him, he let out a huge sigh of relief. "Sam," he snapped, lifting his head. "What the hell?"

Sam chuckled. "Sorry, dude, but I just had to freak you out."

"Why?" Dean snapped, grabbing around his head and collapsing back onto the couch in Bobby's living room that he had been apparently brought to.

"You and Cas…"

"If you finish that, I will kill you," Dean threatened.

Sam sat on the end of the ancient brown couch, grinning. "You should've seen the look on your face, Dean."

"Bite me!" He muffled from beneath his arm.

"We all do crazy things when we drink too much," Sam remarked with a snigger.

"Go away," Dean ordered.

Sam rose. "Well, when you're ready, we've got bacon grease cookin in a dirty ashtray…"

Dean groaned again, stomach churning with the remnants of the drinks he had consumed. He couldn't even remember how many Castiel had. The naïve angel was losing his naivety, a realization that dawned on Dean last night when Castiel drank shot after shot of purple nurple. He smiled and laughed, and joined Dean in a game of poker with three other guys, making jokes that impressed Dean enough to laugh without feeling utterly confused.

"You're drunk," he remembered saying to the wavering angel as they stood next to the bar. Castiel had won every game of poker (comes with having a great poker face), and Dean was broke.

Castiel was forced to grab his shoulders. "I can't get drunk, Dean. You, on the other hand, are swaggering. Perhaps we should leave."

"So early?" Dean slurred with a laugh.

"The bar is closing," Castiel said, slinging one arm around Dean's shoulders to keep him from falling over.

"I'm impressed that you can tell a dirty joke," Dean added as they left the empty bar. "Seriously, Cas, never knew you had it in ya."

"It wasn't… dirty…"

Dean laughed again, pressing a hand to the angel's coat. "You had fun, right, Cas? You actually enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes," Castiel replied, easing Dean into the passenger's side of the Impala.

Dean grabbed the hood of the car upon hearing the voices of the men they had challenged in a poker tournament. "Hey, Cas! You're awesome, man!

"Cas!" Another of the men yelled drunkenly.

Dean grimaced unsure why it suddenly tasted like he had bit into a lemon. "It's Castiel," he yelled in a croaky voice. "Only his friends call him Cas!"

"Dean, you should get into the car now," Castiel insisted.

"That's _my_ nickname for him," Dean fought, glaring at the mens' retreating backs before swinging his gaze to the stiff angel. "They don't even know you!"

"Get in the car, Dean," Castiel repeated.

"Bastards!" Dean grumbled, "I don't like those bastards."

"Dean," Castiel pressed, removing Dean's hands from the hood and practically guiding him into the seat. "I will drive your car."

"You like it, right?" he mumbled, head rolling from side to side.

"What do I like?" Castiel asked.

"The nickname," Dean replied. "You're not just pretending to like it?"

"I am… used to it," Castiel said, walking around to climb in behind the wheel.

"You hate it," Dean groaned, turning onto his side.

"Purple nurples do not agree with you, Dean."

"They're good, though," Dean muffled a laugh.

Dean felt Castiel's hand land on his arm, and he remembered—he remembered how soothing that one touch was. Words resonated on the calm air as the sound of the purring Impala added to his serenity. "Dean… I like the nickname. I have always liked it."

Dean pressed a hand to his own arm where the mark left by Castiel remained, reminding him of how the angel plucked him from the pit, and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Sam was still standing there, staring at him. "Dean?"

"Yeah…" Dean responded in a daze.

"Nothing," Sam said; he was grinning now.

"Is he up?" The voice of their surrogate father and fellow hunter, Bobby, echoed to them in a gruff manner.

Sam's response was muffled by his chuckling. "Yeah, Bobby, he's up."

"What's up Bobby," Dean called, elbowing his brother in the ribs as he bounded off the couch to join Bobby in the kitchen. The smell of frying bacon made his stomach lurch and he gripped around his mouth.

"What's wrong with you?" Bobby asked, spilling several strips of bacon soaked in grease onto a plate.

Dean swallowed hard. "Nothing," he mumbled.

"He's recovering after a very productive night with a certain angel…"

"Stop right there," Bobby ordered to Sam who was about to receive another elbow in the ribs, "Not while I'm eating, you idjit!"

"Nothing happened!" Dean shouted to both of them. "You understand me?" He gulped, realizing that his anger was rousing his stomach. "Both of you had better quit with all this 'Brokeback Mountain' crap!"

Bobby exchanged looks with Sam, both silently communicating something.

"Hey!" Dean yelled louder now.

"No one is thinkin anything like that," Bobby said, putting his plate down on the counter. "And to change the subject, I called you in here, Dean, to let you know that one of my hunter buddies called. Something strange is happening to the hunters in Idaho."

"Define strange," Dean said, glad that Bobby had changed the subject, but he was still on edge with Sam behind him.

"_Our_ kind of strange. According to Reggie, the hunter he usually teams up with can't remember his own name."

Dean groaned bitterly. "Angel tampering?"

"You wanna call Cas?" Sam suggested from behind him.

"No," Dean said, voice low and final. "Besides, he's probably busy with all his archangel stuff. It's not like we need him for every single job!"

Again, Sam and Bobby were exchanging looks before Bobby spoke. "Fine, no Cas, but if it is angel tampering then we have no clue how to find out the who or the why."

"Yes we do," Sam gasped, eyes alight with an idea. "We have a new guardian now, remember?"

Dean did remember. Lien was not at all like Castiel, but she was also very new and just learning the ropes. Sam bent his head down and prayed.

"Lien, we need your help, could you…"

"Sam," spoke the voice of their new guardian angel before Sam could even finish calling for her.

"Hey," Sam greeted with a smile. "We uh… we need your help with something."

Lien nodded. "Anything."

"A hunter in Idaho has apparently lost his memory. Now, I know that you guys can do that, so… could you investigate a little bit?"

In a flutter of wings, Lien was gone. "Where do you think she goes when she's not with us?" Bobby asked, staring at the spot where she once stood.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe she lingers like Cas did."

Just like Castiel, Lien emerged with news within seconds. "The angels have nothing to do with your hunter's memory loss."

"You sure?" Dean pressed, staring hard at her. "It's not like they'd leave a trail."

Lien approached Dean, pressing a hand to his shoulder. "It is not a trail you would see, Dean," she murmured, touching a finger to his forehead gently. "I see yours. I even know that the angel who erased your memories was Castiel. Humans cannot see the trail, but it is there. I want to assure you that Castiel was painstakingly tender in his handling of you. He removed only what needed to be removed and touched nothing else. Many angels do not consider a human's feelings the way Castiel does. "

Dean glared at her. "No offense to your obvious crush, but he stole a piece of my memory without asking; that's not considering my feelings, that's called being a jerk and keeping secrets."

Lien's eyes saddened. "He hurt you," she whispered.

"Lien…"

"I would just like to say this in Castiel's defence. He did what he did to protect you not harm you. If his motives were so selfish as you might believe then he would have erased the part of your memory that still thinks him a monster." She pressed a hand to Dean's chest before turning to face Sam and Bobby. "If you should need me again, just call."

With that she was gone. "Great, now Cas is rubbin off on our new guardian. Pretty soon she'll be walkin around with a stick up her ass, too."

Sam's expression was one of confusion. "Didn't you just have a guy's night out with Cas? Why are you callin him down all of a sudden?"

"What?" Dean laughed awkwardly. "I'm not…"

"He seems a little more relaxed to me," Bobby chimed in with an indifferent shrug.

"I was joking," Dean said, eyeing his brother now, "Can't take a joke?"

"It's not that."

Dean sighed heavily, hating the way Sam's eyes would narrow and his brows would furrow when he was contemplating something. "Look, I don't look at Cas any different than I did before he went postal and tried to destroy the planet. Now can we stop talking about this and maybe… I dunno… hunt the creature that is apparently eliminating hunters' memories?" With that, he turned and slammed out the door.

Sam stood in the kitchen stunned by the new attitude change in his older brother. He said nothing the night before when Castiel came in with a passed out Dean under his arm, but he did trade looks with the wearied angel, watching as he placed Dean on the couch with compassion in his handling of the drunk hunter .

"I shouldn't worry that he might be dead?" Castiel said huskily, turning to face Sam.

"He's just really drunk," Sam ensured.

Castiel nodded then lifted his head slightly, angling his eyes to the ceiling as though listening to something. After about several minutes of this, he acknowledged Sam again, "I'm being summoned."

"You won't get in trouble for… you know…" he gestured over to Dean, mouth open as he laid there.

"No, but I do have a lot to catch up on. Lucifer has escaped the cage with help from Joshua among others, and Michael is the last of the archangels to survive after the apocalypse. With Lucifer intent on taking Dean's soul, I have no choice but to assist in releasing Michael from the cage. All is chaos and it is only getting worse the longer I remain down here."

Sam pressed a hand on the tense angel's shoulder. "It's okay, man. Everything going on up there is way over my head so just go… do what you gotta do, and we'll be here."

Castiel turned, lowering his eyes to Dean's face. "You will… protect him, won't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, Cas, always. You of all people know what I would do for my brother."

"Yes, of course I do know that. I'm sorry for temporarily thinking otherwise."

"He's safe," Sam promised with an encouraging smile. "I'm gonna mess with his head over tonight's date, but…"

Castiel's eyes narrowed as he shook his head. "You are persistent."

"I'm joking, Cas."

"Of course," but this statement was clearly one of sarcasm. "Anyway… if you need assistance, you know that Lien is always on call."

"Yep."

"Goodbye Sam…"

Castiel would have left if it hadn't been for the hand that had shot up to grip a handful of the angel's sleeve.

"Sorry," Sam said, grabbing his brother's tight fist to start prying it off. "Dean tends to get physical when he's sleeping."

Sam was unable to remove Dean's hand from Castiel's coat, but was impressed when watching the angel bend low, placing a hand over Dean's clenched fist. The fingers relaxed almost instantly, falling away. Sam now knew about the mental connection his brother and Castiel shared—an invisible line to one another's thoughts. He knew the reason behind this was that a piece of Dean's soul had taken refuge in Castiel, but the understanding the two now shared was now starting to push Sam out. He wasn't able to literally push thoughts to Dean via an invisible tether and he wasn't able to literally read his brother's mind. Sure, he knew his brother better than anyone else and it wasn't like Castiel could ever integrate himself into their past as kids, but he was used to being the only one who knew Dean. He was used to being the only one who could access his brother's deepest darkest secrets, and he was used to being the only one who understood Dean. It was them versus the world. It had always been just them. Even in Heaven when their good friend and fellow hunter, Ash, explained the soul mates exception, he was sure that that applied to them. They were never just brothers. They had been through too much to just be brothers. They were soul mates. It was them versus the world, and there was never anyone else. Never. Even Bobby, a father to them as well as a good friend, was not given that kind of access.

Now… nearly thirty years later, Dean, without expecting to, or even knowing it, had let someone else in.

"Sam?" Castiel called obviously noticing Sam's wandering thoughts.

"Yeah… sorry… I'm fine. What?"

"I'm leaving. You might not see me for a while."

"No uh… no problem, man."

Castiel left without another word. Sam approached his brother to study him lying there with one hand crossed over his chest. It unnerved him to see a contented look on his face provided by someone that was not him.

The three hunters arrived in Idaho, but made it much too late. In their attempt to talk to the hunter, Reggie whom had called Bobby to help with this case, they found instead, a cold corpse lying across the threshold between the living room and the stairs. Reggie's insides had been scooped out and now lay in a mess on the hardwood floor. Bobby grunted then left, causing Dean and Sam to turn to each other at the same time.

"It's not like Bobby makes friends easy," Sam muttered, lowering his gaze to Reggie's form.

"And when he does they always end up just like this," Dean added, shaking his head.

"Poor Bobby…"

"Poor Reggie."

Sam walked around the body to examine the area in search of some evidence to suggest a demonic presence or maybe even one of a demi-God. What he found was a little more unsettling. "Dean, this guy was a hunter so what's with the lack of hunting techniques."

Dean glanced around as well. "Maybe he didn't have time," Dean suggested weakly. "It's not like monsters ring the doorbell."

"That's fine. I get that, but Reggie was hunting something before this happened. He should have at least monster-proofed." Sam approached one of the windows. "This is open! And there's no salt, anywhere."

"Okay… so he was a crappy hunter."

"A crappy hunter wouldn't live past twenty, Dean. This guy was at least Bobby's age, if not older."

"You think there's any connection to the hunter with the memory loss?" Dean asked.

"Let's find out."

Sam left Reggie's place, joined only moments later by Dean. Bobby was standing outside with a hand on his forehead. "Bobby, maybe you should… you know… sit this one out," Dean suggested.

"Why?" mumbled Bobby gruffly.

"Because you've been through enough, don't you think? Let Sam and I handle this."

Bobby lowered his hand to glare at Dean. "No. I'm fine. What did you find?"

Dean groaned, bowing his head in frustration before letting Sam take over to explain what was abnormal about the scene.

"Reggie would never not be prepared," Bobby defended.

"Trust us, Bobby, he wasn't. We should've at least found salt on the window sills, but there was nothing."

Bobby bit his bottom lip glancing from one end of the house to the other. "We have a hunter to check on," he said.

The hunter, Reggie had been attempting to help, was a loner, living in a small one bedroom apartment in a small area of Idaho. Dean looked for any sign that the loner—Brett Hayden as indicated by an unopened phone bill—had any contact outside the mess he called an apartment. The place was a wreck with fast food containers everywhere, dishes hiding beneath stacks of newspapers and overturned furniture.

"Hey, if those newspapers were books, this could be your place, Bobby," Dean remarked.

"Shut up," Bobby snapped at him.

Dean threw his hands up in a quiet surrender before heading through a short hall to find a small bedroom. He snatched the pistol off his belt, his hearing being acute enough to detect panicked breathing. "Brett?" he called, moving in further.

"Close the door," squeaked a voice from somewhere near the closet.

"Hey, Brett, I'm Dean Winchester, I'm a hunter… like you."

Dean never got a good look at what leapt from behind the bed, but he was out long before he hit the floor.

Sam heard the thump come from the bedroom and raced there ahead of Bobby, knife held tight in one hand. Sprawled there in the bleeding light of day was Dean. Sam felt his stomach leap into his throat as he lowered next to his brother. "Dean?" he heard himself choke.

The hunter groaned, allowing Sam's heart to start beating again. Sam waited until Dean opened his eyes but was not encouraged by the terror that arose in them

Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked.

"Who?" Choked the stunned hunter.

"I'm Sam, your brother Sam. You remember me, don't you?"

Bobby arrived, giving Dean the widest eyes Sam had ever seen. "I don't know a Sam, alright?" His saucers went right to Bobby's face. "Who are you?"

"Balls," Bobby sighed.

"Balls?" Dean repeated.

"We're your family, Dean," Sam pleaded.

Dean pulled himself up, shaking his head as though trying to clear the cobwebs from it. "I don't… I can't… who are you guys?"

"Let's get outta here," Bobby said, leaving the doorway.

Sam had never felt so disconnected from his brother as he pulled him up to help him out of the apartment. "Obviously, this is how the freak does it. I can't imagine that Brett is still alive."

Sam made a face, attempting to follow Bobby out. Dean stood on the threshold unmoving. "I don't like this, Bobby, it's not like we know who or what attacked any of these hunters. We were there and we still never got a glimpse," Sam muttered. Dean's eyes widened still more if that was possible. "Are you alright?" Sam asked in as tender a tone as he could conjure in his moment of panic.

"Oh… yeah…"

"Are you sure?"

Dean nodded. "Yep. I'm good."

Sam turned from his brother for a brief moment only to feel a shove on his shoulder and hear the door slam before he had a chance to block it with his foot. "Dean!" Sam called, pivoting around to try pushing his way back in. "Dean!"

"I don't know who you are but you're obviously crazy! You and your old man!"

Sam glanced at Bobby who dropped a sigh so heavy it could have carried him with it. "What do we do, Bobby? He doesn't even know who we are!"

Bobby, for the first time ever, bowed his head… and prayed. "Castiel… I know you're busy with being an archangel, but we have a HUGE problem. We need your help…"

"I know," Castiel gasped, shocking both Sam and Bobby enough to make them jump in unison.

Sam was losing his composure knowing that the monster now had Dean trapped and helpless. "Cas…" it was all he could manage before the angel nodded and teleported.

Castiel felt the tie being severed much earlier than now and could not quite understand until he heard Bobby's prayer. Slowly, he made his way through the apartment, avoiding the mess as he went. In all his time of knowing Dean, he had never seen him in quite this manner. The young hunter was huddled against the wall in a small and very messy bedroom. Whoever had wiped Dean's memories had been ruthless when doing so. He stood several inches from Dean, gazing down at his rocking form.

The hunter glanced up briefly and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "I…"

He got no words out before something flew out of the shadows, grabbing the hapless hunter around the neck. There was a lot of hissing, but Castiel grabbed a scaly arm and gripped, tearing the creature away from the shaken hunter. With a blast of light, the creature disintegrated into nothing.

Dean was rubbing his throat and staring at his hero with eyes of shock and awe. "Who are you?"

"I'm Castiel."

"Castiel?" Dean inquired, too impressed to continue cowering.

"Yes, but my friends call me Cas," he added. "What do your friends call you?"

Dean glanced around. "I dunno."

"Will you come with me?" Castiel asked politely, extending a hand to Dean.

"I uh… I don't think so… Castiel…"

"I am here to help as I have demonstrated. You have no reason not to trust me."

Dean glanced once at the creature on the floor before sighing in defeat and grabbing around the angel's wrist. With a tug from Castiel, he was on his feet. They were nearing the door when Dean stopped abruptly. "No," he gasped, pointing at it. "Two psychos are waitin for me out there. One is freakishly tall and the other… is just old."

Castiel stood there patiently, examining Dean's posture—he was beyond terrified. "They are the good guys."

"They can be the friggin neighbourhood watch; I'm still not steppin foot out there."

"Why?"

Dean sent a fleeting glance to the door. "They freak me out. Big foot thinks he knows who I am which he obviously does not, and god knows about the other one. He's probably just tryin to get his kicks with younger guys if you know what I mean."

Castiel stepped close to Dean, but he did not complain about personal space even when they were only inches apart. "Do you trust me?"

Dean's face relaxed. "You saved my life, Cas… of course I trust you."

"Good. Please remain still while I check something."

Dean did as he was told without question, something else Castiel was not used to. Dean always fought with him, always had a retort for everything the angel said. This Dean trusted him implicitly. This Dean had not been overwhelmed with a lifetime of heartache and pain and loss and torture. He saw it in the hunter's eyes long before he placed his hand down on his head. The creature had literally torn everything out, including Dean's forty years in Hell. And killing the thing did not recover anything, not one memory. His memories of Bobby and Sam were gone, too—the past, the present—all gone. Dean Winchester was an empty vessel, an extremely easy target for any supernatural being. The soul was still infinite since true love cannot be erased by any amount of magic, but Dean was no longer Dean. Even his voice had lost its tortured growl to be replaced by one much more smooth and devoid of experience.

"I know you and I know the two outside that frighten you."

"They don't frighten me," Dean said with an awkward laugh.

"Yes, they do," Castiel argued gently. "But they are your family. Bigfoot as you refer to him is your brother, Sam, and the older man with him is Bobby."

"How can you know that?"

"Because we are… friends."

Dean stared at the angel for a long moment before finally replying. "Okay…"

"Your name is Dean Winchester."

"Winchester," Dean scoffed harshly, "What kind of douchy name is that?"

"Will you please come with me? I promise that Sam and Bobby will not harm you."

"Cas?" Sam called from the other side of the door. "Cas, tell me something man! Is Dean…"

The door opened and Castiel watched as Sam leapt at his brother, hugging hard around those stiff shoulders. "There, there," muttered Dean, patting Sam's head.

Sam pulled back, meeting Castiel's eyes for an explanation. Castiel turned to Dean. "I must talk to Sam so…"

Dean grabbed Castiel's coat sleeve possessively, and leaned up to hiss in the angel's ear. "Don't leave me alone with the creepy old dude! He's looking at me funny."

"Dean, Bobby will not hurt you."

"I'm not worried about getting hurt!"

"No harm of any kind will come to you," Castiel promised. "But I must talk with Sam."

Dean let go of his sleeve reluctantly. "Be quick okay, Cas? He's giving me the 'come hither' look. I don't feel safe."

Castiel nodded to take the tension out of the hunter's face before guiding Sam several feet away. "I know that you think I have come to recover Dean's memories, but the creature was ruthless. Dean remembers nothing of you or Bobby or me or anyone else in his past or his present. There is nothing but an abyss where his memories once resided. The only reason he is still intact is his soul, even if his brain does not remember, his soul—in a sense—still does."

Sam's eyes glistened. "Well, then we'll just hunt down the sonofabitch and kill him."

"The creature is dead," Castiel murmured.

"What?"

"He attacked Dean and I killed him. I thought that doing so would recover Dean's lost memories, but…"

Sam shook his head, glancing over at his brother grievously. "There's gotta be something else, Cas, something we missed."

"I can make inquiries."

"If an angel buddy of yours did this…"

"He will be punished severely, Sam."

Sam's voice cracked. "What are we supposed to do now, Cas?"

"I will do what I can, Sam, everything I can to recover his memories," Castiel vowed, pressing a consoling hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam nodded, biting down on his bottom lip hard. "Hurry…"

"Of course."

Castiel glanced over at Dean who was shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, biting his bottom lip as he avoided the eyes of Bobby. Poor Bobby stood there in a similar amount of discomfort, trying to make eye contact with the angel for any sign that he might be able to fix this.

Dean waved Castiel over desperately then gestured over to Bobby with anxiety tensing his features. Castiel walked over to Dean, noticing that with every step the hunter's uneasiness was lessening. Even Bobby was more than glad of his approach and relaxed his stance as well.

"So what happens, now?" Dean asked, looking over at the angel.

"Dean, you are in an immense amount of danger right now which is why I must leave."

"I'll go with you. Obviously, I'll be safe with you, right?"

Castiel turned to the fearful hunter. "You cannot go with me. You must stay with Sam and Bobby while I find out how to… recover your lost memories."

Dean frowned. "Come on, Cas, I don't trust those two weirdos. Just let me come with you."

"Dean…"

"Please," Dean begged now, grabbing the angel's arm.

Sam approached them, gazing at Dean's face before speaking in a voice he usually used with victims of a monster attack. "Dean, you can trust us. If Cas does, then you can, right?"

Dean pulled back a little, staring up at Sam with eyes of apprehension. "I dunno…"

"We just want to help you," Sam pleaded, voice breaking. "Whether you remember or not, you are my brother—my older brother- and I need you. Please, Dean… please just… trust me."

Dean sighed in defeat. "Okay fine… Sam," he said with reluctance. "It is Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam replied with a tearful laugh. "But you like to call me Sammy."

"Sammy? Isn't that a little… childish for someone… your size?"

"I got used to it," Sam admitted.

Dean nodded, pressing his lips together. "I'll just call you Sam—Sam."

Sam's smile was weak. "Of course…"

Dean looked over at Castiel again. "You sure I can't go with you?"

"It isn't possible," Castiel murmured. "Stay here and your family will protect you as long as you let them."

Dean nodded. "Are you coming back, though?"

"I will return soon."

Castiel placed one hand on Dean's shoulder before leaving to conduct his search.

Dean's gasp was a loud "Wow!" as he stared at the empty space where Castiel once stood. "What happened?" He turned to Sam. "What just happened? How did Cas just… poof?" He added hand gestures to this for emphasis. Sam and Bobby exchanged looks before Sam attempted to explain.

"Do you believe in angels?"

Dean's eyes revealed his answer. "What are angels?"

Sam further explained, receiving even more puzzled looks from his brother.

"God?"

"Dean, there's a place we all go when we die…"

Bobby chimed in. "How about we take him to the house and he can read the books there."

"Does he remember how to read?"

"I know how to read," Dean stormed, glaring from Sam's face to Bobby's, "I'm not stupid!"

When the three hunters left the apartment building, Dean stopped several feet from the Impala, his mouth open in awe. "Nice wheels! Who owns that?"

Sam smiled. "You do."

"No way! Really?" Dean was impressed, moving about the car with fascination alight in his features. "I drive this? You've gotta be kiddin me!" He turned to face Sam with a look of puzzlement. "What uh…"

"1967 Chevy Impala," Sam supplied for him.

"Impala, huh? Yeah, I can see me driving this car." He climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door. Bobby approached Sam apprehensively.

"You sure you wanna be letting 'eternal sunshine' there, drive?" He asked.

"We should at least see if he knows how," Sam suggested, walking around to the passenger's side. He looked over at his brother who was going over everything from the steering wheel to the gearshift to the tuner on the radio.

Dean looked over at him sheepishly. "I should know where the keys are, but…"

"Check your pocket, Dean,"

Dean nodded, and found the keys in the left pocket of his jacket. He grinned, holding the keys up in victory before shaking them. "Ah ha! Thanks, Sammy." Dean nodded. "You're right, something about calling you that feels… normal."

Sam was restraining his tears, even as he helped his brother pick out the right key on the key ring. Bobby was the last to climb in, buckling up his seat belt the very minute he was tucked into the back. "Okay… let's go."

"Where are we going?" Dean asked, turning the key in the ignition allowing for the Impala to purr to life.

"Sioux Falls," Sam and Bobby replied at the same time.

"Oh…" Dean looked over at Sam to verify. "So Sioux Falls is in…"

"South Dakota," Sam said, gesturing to Dean's seat belt. Dean just laughed before pulling it over him.

With the car still in park, Dean attempted to drive, however the car would not go. Sam played the role of the bigger brother and showed Dean what was wrong. "Oh, so I just put this in drive and…"

Gasps escaped all three of them as the car jolted forward; Dean's foot was still on the gas.

"Brake, Dean! Brake!" Cried Bobby and Sam at the same time.

Dean surprised himself when the car lurched to a stop. "Holy crap," he choked, straightening to look over at Sam. "I um… I'm sorry about that, Sammy…" he turned to acknowledge the older hunter, "Bobby…"

Bobby put his thumb up shakily. "I'm… alright. I think I just swallowed my own heart, but I'm alright."

"Dean," Sam started, noticing how close they now were to a parked car. One inch more and they would be fixing the Impala and leaving a note on the car they had just ploughed into. But none of this even remotely concerned Sam as it had occurred to him that Dean knew how to press on the brake in order to stop the car. Castiel had said that Dean's soul remembered, but how much did it remember?

"That was… scary," Dean admitted.

"We've been through a lot worse," Sam said then proceeded to show Dean how to drive properly; first, by taking them out of their current situation then by explaining road rules and speed limits. Dean was entirely immersed in the lesson, nodding his head and obeying every word Sam uttered. When they were finally on the road and Bobby had let go of a held breath, Dean managed to ask:

"What do you mean we've been through a lot worse?"

"We have a lot of dangerous history, Dean," Sam explained, making sure to keep his brother from straying into the next lane.

"Dangerous… how?"

"Well… we hunt things… weird things."

"Like angels?"

"No… angels are the good guys… sometimes," he added.

Dean's hands gripped tight to the steering wheel. "Cas…"

"Very good," Sam assured. "We've had our issues, and you two have gone through it all, but…"

"We have?"

"Yeah…"

"Is he… family?"

"We consider him family," Sam said with a nod. "He's been to Hell and back for us." For reasons unexplained, Sam did not say _you_ but resumed with his account of Castiel. "He was our guardian for a while, but he ended up being promoted to archangel so now… uh… it's complicated," he added, knowing that the details would just confuse Dean. "Cas is a good guy, but you, me, and Bobby," he pointed to the stiff hunter in the backseat, "we hunt evil—demons, monsters, violent ghosts, the thing that attacked you today—and we've been doin that since we were kids."

Dean's hands relaxed a little. "I don't remember that, Sam…"

"I know," Sam choked, "but Cas is finding a cure right now. He's going to recover your memories, and everything I'm saying is going to make a hell of a lot more sense than it does right now."

Dean nodded. "And I'll remember you?"

"Yeah."

"And the other stuff—like the evil we… hunt?"

"Um… yeah," Sam replied reluctantly.

"What if I don't really wanna remember, Sam? I mean—monsters? Demons? You can't tell me those are good memories."

Sam was temporarily lost for words, understanding why Dean would want his head to remain clear of any bad memories. Sam withheld a lot of bad memories, too, ones he wished he could eliminate. He still fell asleep every night only to wake up in cold sweats, the blankets tangled around his form, the images of being tortured by two overwhelmingly powerful angels in Hell's box still haunting every waking moment. Dean, Castiel and Bobby were the only three able to temporarily ease the suffering and give him reasons not to take his own life just to escape the eternal memories.

"Sam! Sammy!"

Sam jolted to the sound of Dean's voice. "I was just…"

"Off in your own world," Dean finished for him.

"Kind of. Look, Dean, yeah I agree there are some really bad memories, but they're tangled up with some really good ones, too. It's hard to survive without both and there is an appreciation that comes with knowing we have come so far and been through so much without our entire relationship changing drastically for the worst."

Dean laughed. "Are we having a chick-flick moment?"

Sam looked over at him. "Do you know what a chick-flick moment is?"

Dean shrugged. "I think I do. Obviously I wouldn't say it if I didn't know what it meant, right? That's just… illogical."

"I have to agree."

The hunters arrived in Sioux Falls well after the sun had gone down, but Dean did not go in with Sam and Bobby; instead, he remained outside with the Impala, staring at the house as though it were a looming stranger. "I'm just gonna sleep in the car, tonight," he said to their retreating backs.

Sam heard the car door creak before shutting. He stopped before the doors, staring at Bobby. "I can't leave him out here alone, Bobby," he muttered.

"Of course you can't. God knows what kind of demon or angel has his number on freakin speed dial. Look, you stay out here with him, and I'll start lookin into any kind of cure. I might even call Lien for help."

Sam nodded, forced a smile of encouragement before approaching the Impala to knock lightly on the window. Dean jolted up on the backseat to stare through the window at Sam. "You shouldn't do that, man."

"Come on out here, Dean, I need to show you something," Sam insisted.

Dean reluctantly slid out of the Impala, closing the door behind him. Sam guided him around to the trunk and popped it open. "Holy crap, are those…" he glanced at Sam who nodded.

"I told you that we hunt, Dean. We are obviously doin a lot more than hand-to-hand combat. Grab one of the guns and I'll show you how to use it."

"You've gotta be kiddin me," croaked Dean, gazing at all the weapons. "I can't even decide. What's the best one?"

Sam pointed to a shot gun at the back. "Don't worry Dean," he soothed as the mystified hunter lifted the shotgun out of the trunk to hold awkwardly in one hand, "I'm sure you'll be a natural at this."

"It's friggin heavy," Dean complained, pulling the gun up to rest on his arm. "Okay, now what?"

Sam led Dean as far from Bobby's as possible before teaching Dean the technique of handling and using a gun. The first shot went off like an explosion sending both gun and handler flying in opposite directions. Dean struggled to his feet, shaking his head.

"Dean," Sam called after him, snatching up the abandoned gun as he ran. "Dean, wait!"

"I'm not a natural, Sam! I'm not even close! You wanna know the truth?" Dean stopped to face Sam, "I'm terrified of that damn thing. It's big, bulky and… uncomfortable."

Sam nodded, urging Dean back to the open trunk. "That's fine, you'll try something smaller. Here," Sam offered, grabbing a pistol to hand to the shaky Dean. "Does that feel better?"

"No," Dean muttered, staring at the pistol with contempt.

"This one will be better, I promise," Sam insisted. He practically had to drag Dean back to the spot he had chosen for the training. "Just breathe, Dean. You just need to take control of the weapon and the rest will just…"

The gun shot was loud and Dean's voice rose several octaves in full-fledged fear. "Oh my god! Cas?"

"Hello… Dean," he greeted, glancing down at the tear in his shirt.

"We're just practising," Sam explained.

"I see," Castiel murmured, approaching them to hand the bullet back to Dean. "You can close your mouth, Dean. I'm not harmed."

Dean glanced once at Sam before attacking the angel with a tight hug. Sam exchanged looks with Castiel and both shrugged. Castiel's hand came up to pat Dean's back. "Dean?" he called to the trembling hunter.

Dean eased himself back, staring at the torn shirt. "I shot you…"

"I am not human therefore bullets are harmless," Castiel explained.

"No, right… you're an angel… I mean… an archangel, right? You um… can't die?"

"I can die," Castiel corrected, "just not by any man-made weapon."

Sam approached, taking the pistol out of his brother's hand. "It was a good shot, Dean. Straight through the chest," he said encouragingly.

"I just shot an angel, Sammy," Dean whimpered in a hiss.

"He's calling you Sammy," Castiel noted, eyeing Sam.

"He remembers some things," Sam said.

"Perhaps we will be able to work with that. Unfortunately, I have some bad news."

Dean stared from the angel's face to the face of his brother but said nothing. Sam placed a hand on his shoulder gently. Castiel continued despite the lack of responses. "I cannot find the culprit and no angel will speak even when I ask which leads me to believe that one of my brethren is behind this. With Balthazar's help, I will find the angel responsible, but I must apologize for how long it will take." He approached Dean, placing a hand on his forehead. "I am sorry, Dean, I will do all I can to make this right."

Dean closed his eyes to the touch. "To be honest, I'm okay, Cas. With Sammy's help, I should be able to hunt… eventually… and then I won't even need my memories."

"Regardless, I am still sorry. If I hadn't… it's difficult to explain but I hold myself accountable for everything that has happened to you."

Dean opened his eyes to see that the angel's bright ones were barely an inch from his. "You shouldn't… feel accountable. You're the good guy."

Castiel choked on a laugh, dropping his head. "I don't feel like the good guy, Dean."

"You saved my life. Apparently, we've been through it all, so I think that qualifies you as the good guy."

Castiel's laugh grew harsher as his voice tore with his realization. "You don't remember…"

"What?" Dean pressed.

"Nothing," Castiel replied, lifting his head. Two silver tears shone on his cheeks. "Let Sam and Bobby keep you safe. I vow to you and your brother that I will find who stole your memories, or I will die trying."

Sam wanted to say something to the suffering angel, but he was gone before Sam could utter a word.

Castiel arrived in the middle of a forest in White Russia and fell to his knees. So this was what love felt like, he realized, burying his face in his hands. Love was pain and fear and constant worry and regret and helplessness. He jolted to the feel of a hand on his shoulder, a small hand, one he recognized.

"Castiel?"

"Lien," he sniffed, clearing the tears off his face with the sleeve of his coat. "What are you doing here? You should be with the Winchesters, protecting them, guarding them…"

"I have come to confess," she whispered softly.

"Confess what?" he snapped, lifting to his feet.

"In just a few seconds, Belthazar will recover Dean's memories—all of Dean's memories."

Castiel stared at her blankly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Joshua received a message from our father that you are the reason for the existence of the infinite soul. This soul was supposed to be a myth, Castiel, but it was never a myth more than it was a prophesy to be fulfilled. Do not get me wrong; your love for Dean was not a creation of fate, but you had to know how this story ends."

Castiel glared at her heatedly. "No, I'm sorry, I don't. Please tell me."

"Dean's infinite soul will be released and Heaven will return to its rightful state. Our father will return and all will be as it should be in Heaven and on Earth."

Castiel blinked, taken aback by this. "Our father will return?"

"You were always the one who would fulfill the prophesy and he knew that."

"What does Dean's soul have to do with that? Can't Dad just return and leave Dean be?"

"Do you not understand what I am telling you, Castiel? Dean's soul will save the Heavenly host! All the archangels we had lost will come back to us—our brothers and our sisters. Dean is Heaven's saviour because of your unending love."

Castiel shook his head. "You're telling me that Dean has to die!"

"Cas…"

"No," he stormed, "Do not 'Cas' me, Lien! You and Belthazar have betrayed my trust! I saved him and he betrayed me—again!" He approached her, anger swelling inside him. "You, Belthazar nor any other angel will touch Dean! Not for the Heavenly Host and not for God!" He leaned in closer, "And if you dare try, I will do whatever it takes to stop you, all of you!"

Lien gripped his arms. "It is called true love for a reason, Castiel. Even if you let go, you will not lose him."

He threw her hands off him scornfully. "Stay away from him! You are no longer their guardian!"

"What about our father?" she pleaded.

"You can tell him to… bite me!" With that, he turned his back to her and teleported, walking forward as soon as Bobby's house was within his view. Belthazar stood there, a sad smile on his face.

"Cassie?"

"Did you and Lien release that creature from Purgatory?" Castiel growled, charging forward.

Belthazar laughed. "Not likely! And there were more than one of those creatures I will have you know. However, I did manage to get my hands on the one creature that had taken Dean's memories before you snuffed it out like a birthday candle. Oh Cassie, Cassie, Cassie—you understand how important it is that Dean receives his memories, don't you? God's return to Heaven is the most important thing to all us angels, and should be to you, too. Obviously, I do need the missing pieces to complete the transfer."

"No, you don't, Belthazar! It is bad enough that Dean knows he is the infinite soul, but to return the unnecessary memories…"

"You saved his life, Cassie! That is not something he should have to forget!"

"He does not need to remember the details of Luckless. He should be free of any torment or confusion those recovered memories might cause…"

"I'm sorry, but you can't protect him forever…" With those final words, Belthazar pressed a hand to Castiel's head, summoning the lost memories to him. Castiel let out a gasp to the flap of angel wings, indicating that Belthazar had gone. Moments later, light exploded through Bobby's place.

Castiel sank against the side of the Mustang he usually sat on, head cradled in his hands. What felt like only moments passed before the door creaked open.

"Cas?" Dean's voice was gruff with the memories that had been returned.

He looked up into the hunter's face, worn from all his years fighting evil. "Dean…"

"Are you okay? Usually, you just barge in without knocking."

"I am," Castiel said, straightening. "How are you? I understand that you retrieved your memories."

Dean nodded. "Yep, I'm full-fledged, evil fightin badass now. Strangely, I can remember not remembering how to handle a shot gun. I guess it paid off to live in a dysfunctional family. I'd probably be a major wuss right now."

Castiel could not restrain the laugh. "I doubt that you would be a wuss, Dean."

"I know I hugged you. Well, I did shoot you so it was completely justified, but it was… uncomfortable."

"So all your memories have been returned? You are completely recovered…"

"Stop fishing, Cas. Belthazar wasn't that nice. I still know nothing about what you and Sam did to me in Luckless. Trust me, you're off the hook there."

Castiel nodded.

"And I get it, now, okay? You can't tell me for my own safety. I won't pry anymore since I'm not really sure I wanna know, anyway. But, Cas? You should be careful. They're not exactly gunnin for you upstairs and with Joshua being a giant douche, you need to keep an eye out."

Castiel nodded slowly. "You had a talk with Belthazar, I presume?"

"A long talk, yeah."

"Well, it might please you and Sam and Bobby to know that I am your guardian again. Lien… stepped down."

Dean frowned. "Geez, are we that difficult?"

"You can be. Some angels just don't understand all your complexities."

"Well, I'm glad you're back, Cas. It wasn't the same without being able to call your feathery ass. Lien was a bit slow when returnin calls, you know?"

Castiel chuckled. "I appreciate that… I think."

Dean smiled then looked back at the house.

"I'm leaving so you can sleep."

"No lingering," Dean warned.

"I will try my best," Castiel joked. It really was a joke and Dean did laugh. "Goodnight… Dean."

"Goodnight, Cas."

Dean stood there long after Castiel had vanished in a flutter of wings. He was sure that at one point during their talk, he would give himself away. The angel would know he lied and the walls he had built would crumble. He entered the house, putting his back into the door to close it. For several minutes he simply stood there with a fist against his chest. He would never look at Castiel the same again. He was dead set against allowing things to change between them, but despite his protest, they were. Luckless was not just a normal hunt. He really did die and Castiel really did save his life—again. He remembered the kiss vividly and was surprised by the lack of disgust it invoked. He returned to the worn couch in Bobby's living room and collapsed onto it. The kiss was good. He rolled over onto his side, shutting his eyes tight. The image that emerged was Castiel's bluer than blue eyes a hair's breadth away as he uttered words Dean was sure he would never hear in his life. _I do… I love you…_ He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his face. He was never an expert in math, but putting two and two together was incredibly easy now that he had the missing pieces. He was the infinite soul; the infinite soul only existed due to true love; his soul harboured true love for an angel. And that's when he remembered his conversation with Castiel when he was sure the significant other was Lisa. He had believed it to be one-sided, but Castiel corrected him. He turned onto his other side, staring across the living room to the wall. Castiel loved him. It wasn't just love either, it was true love.

"Damnit," he mumbled, pressing his hands to his face.

"Dean?" Sam had entered the living room.

"Sammy?" he responded, pulling himself up onto his elbow.

Sam's face lit up. "You remember?"

"Yep, all because of Belthazar. Apparently, there were other creatures skulking around, taking other people's memories, but he was able to stop them all."

Sam sat on the edge of the couch next to Dean's feet. "Oh… good. What were they?"

"He didn't say."

"Oh."

"It's good to remember you," Dean admitted. "I may not like all the crap we went through, but… I'm not willing to sacrifice all my memories just to avoid remembering the bad ones. Besides, I think there were more good times than bad, anyway. The rock concerts, my Impala, all the women…"

Sam was laughing. "They weren't all good."

"You're right. Some of those break-ups I could have lived without. So… I'm good as new, now. You are still freakishly tall, but I'm used to it."

Sam punched his leg with a smirk. "Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

Sam lifted to his feet, a smile beaming on his face. "Goodnight Dean."

"Goodnight, Sammy."


End file.
